


It's the End of the World (As We Know It)

by schweet_heart



Series: Merlin Fic [66]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alien Invasion, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Banter, Internalized Homophobia, Multi, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Threesome - M/M/M, remix eligible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 23:50:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11794026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart/pseuds/schweet_heart
Summary: Arthur is travelling north when he meets Merlin, looking small and battered by the side of the road.Written for Pornalot 2017 Challenge #1 (Conquest).





	It's the End of the World (As We Know It)

Arthur is travelling north when he meets Merlin, looking small and battered by the side of the road. It’s dangerous to stop for strangers these days, even out here near the old Welsh border, but Arthur is too tired of running to ever disregard a cry for help.

This turns out to be a mistake.

“Hand over those keys of yours, real easy,” a man’s voice says, and there’s the muzzle of a pistol in the small of his back. “I don’t want to shoot you.”

“Then why are you carrying a gun?” Arthur raises his hands, car keys trapped inside one fist. “If you take my car, I’ll just die out here anyway. On the whole, I’d rather be shot.”

“It does seem more heroic that way,” Merlin agrees from the ground. Arthur knows his name is Merlin because he introduces himself a few seconds later, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to exchange pleasantries with the man you’ve hijacked in the middle of the night. “And this is Gwaine. He’s not really holding a gun.”

“I could have been,” Gwaine says, stepping into view. Arthur has the impression of long, dark hair and a pouting mouth, stubble shadowing his chin. He puts his arms down.

“And I _could_ have been a Grifter.”

“Sorry.” Merlin smiles. “It’s just, we really need to get to Ealdor. Is there any chance you could give us a lift?”

 

*

 

Arthur’s car is a beat-up Mini Cooper with one broken headlight and no rearview mirror. It runs, but only just, and his supplies take up most of the space in back. For three grown men, it’s a tight fit.

“You outran the Horde in _this_?” Gwaine asks, sounding impressed. “That takes guts.”

“More like blind luck.” And he’d paid dearly for the privilege. “I’ve been sticking to the back roads so far, avoiding populated areas. I usually keep the headlights off.”

Usually, but not tonight, which was how he’d fallen for Merlin’s ploy in the first place. Gwaine grins.

“Must be destiny,” he says.

“That's me." Arthur's voice is flat. “Fucking providential.”

 

*

 

“Speaking of fucking,” Gwaine says, some time later. They’ve stopped in a lay-by to get some sleep, huddling beneath the trees as dawn breaks over the horizon. “I found this in the glove-box a few miles back. Anyone fancy a shag?”

“You just escaped an alien invasion and _that’s_ what you’re thinking about,” Merlin says, but his tone suggests utter lack of surprise. He bats the box of condoms away. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And very horny,” Gwaine says with a leer. “How about it, Princess?”

Arthur’s usual denial is on the tip of his tongue, but a shy glance from Merlin changes his mind. If you can’t come out at the end of the world, when can you?

“I don’t bottom,” he says, before he can think better of it, and Gwaine’s grin widens into something dangerous.

“That’s all right,” he says. “I hardly ever top.”

 

*

 

It’s probably Gwaine’s fault that things devolve from there. Scratch that: it’s definitely Gwaine’s fault, but since he’s the only one with a working knowledge of threesomes, both Arthur and Merlin are happy to let him take charge.

“It’s simple mathematics,” he says, working himself open slowly with one hand. He’s using the first-aid vaseline as lube – “Not ideal, but it does in a pinch,” – and how he manages to keep his voice steady Arthur has no idea. “Two plus one equals sexier sex.”

“I don’t think that’s quite how it works,” Merlin says, but he’s distracted, his eyes caught on the heavy curve of Gwaine’s erect cock. The hot flush on his cheeks goes all the way down. “Whatever happened to three’s a crowd?”

“Overstated,” is Gwaine’s pithy response. He gives a sharp inhale, hips jerking, and closes his eyes. “Merlin–– I need–– ”

“Okay.” Hurriedly, Merlin steps forward, guiding his cock inside as Gwaine removes his fingers. It’s clear the two of them have done this before, and Arthur tries not to feel jealous.

“Where do you want me?” he asks. Merlin flashes a cheeky grin over his shoulder and wriggles his arse. Right. Stupid question.

It’s not like Arthur hasn’t had semi-anonymous sex before, but never in daylight, and never while technically on the run. He puts tentative hands on Merlin’s hips, stepping close enough to press an open-mouthed kiss to the nape of his neck. Merlin lets out a sigh of encouragement, and Arthur rocks against him, parting his cheeks with two fingers until his cock is rubbing against Merlin’s hole with each pass.

From there, it’s easy. Merlin is vocal about what he likes, and Arthur teases him mercilessly, using slick fingers and the blunt head of his prick to bring him to the brink again and again. Merlin fights back with long, slow thrusts, driving into Gwaine and clenching tight and hot around Arthur’s cock. Whatever else may have happened to the world, sex is still sex, and Arthur loses himself in the rhythm of it, burned-out cities and shattered lives forgotten in the pleasure of burying himself in Merlin’s body.

He is vaguely aware of Gwaine beneath them, Merlin’s hands on his waist slightly pinked in the sunlight, the visible sheen of sweat on his back. He scrapes his teeth along Merlin’s throat and is rewarded by a soft ‘ _guh_ ’ when Merlin’s head tips back, devastatingly pliant, his control slipping as he spasms in Arthur’s grip. Arthur fucks into him, into Gwaine, into Gwaine’s fist, coming with a strangled sound against Merlin's hair as his vision goes white.

 

*

 

They end in a sticky heap on the grass, Gwaine on his back with Merlin sandwiched between them, which suggests that Gwaine is observant as well as clever.

“Fuck,” Gwaine says, flinging an arm across his eyes. “If I have to die, this is how I want to go.”

“Naked,” Merlin deadpans. “In the woods.”

“Nothing more human than that,” Gwaine says, and smiles.


End file.
